


No Fool

by EssayOfThoughts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Norse Religion & Lore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 07:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15456114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts
Summary: Most librarians were dedicants to gods and goddess of wisdom. Sometimes it was specific; the librarians at St. Mungo’s were mostly dedicants to Aesculapius, Sulis-Minerva or Kamrusepa, at Mages College, London to Hecate, Kamrusepa, or Isis. There were always a few odd ones: Hogwarts’ librarian, Madam Pince, had been a dedicant of Nane since she was four years old, the librarian of Magegate cemetery was a dedicant of Ninhursag, and the librarian of the Ministry, an Unspeakable who went by Maudlin, was a fierce adherent to Justice itself.Hermione Granger, head librarian of Dee’s College, Cambridge, was an adherent of Loki and no one was entirely sure why a guardian of wisdom was dedicated to a god of lies.





	No Fool

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lucdarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucdarling/gifts).



> Written for an ask game on my tumblr, which you can read over [Here](http://essayofthoughts.tumblr.com/post/176195954285/hermioneloki-academic-librarian-au).

**i.**    
Most librarians were dedicants to gods and goddess of wisdom. Sometimes it was specific; the librarians at St. Mungo’s were mostly dedicants to Aesculapius, Sulis-Minerva or Kamrusepa, at Mages College, London to Hecate, Kamrusepa, or Isis. There were always a few odd ones: Hogwarts’ librarian, Madam Pince, had been a dedicant of Nane since she was four years old, the librarian of Magegate cemetery was a dedicant of Ninhursag, and the librarian of the Ministry, an Unspeakable who went by Maudlin, was a fierce adherent to Justice itself. 

Hermione Granger, head librarian of Dee’s College, Cambridge, was an adherent of Loki and no one was entirely sure why a guardian of wisdom was dedicated to a god of lies.

 

* * *

 

**ii.**  
_You’re not a fool._

The voice echoed through her mind. Hermione had never thought she would be approached by a god, trying to court her worship. Even if that was how it was, now, gods seeking mortals they approved of rather than mortals picking gods they liked, she hadn’t though she’d ever garner some special notice.

It worried her that she had.

 _Would you rather I was?_  she asked the voice. She would not yet append  _my lord_  or  _my lady_  because the voice in her head was oddly… genderless, and to offend the god come to court you was always a recipe for destruction. As the voice said, she was not a fool.

 _No!_  the voice cried.  _No. But so many of your kind are._

Hermione humphed and pulled the stack of grimoires closer to her chest.  _What a wonderful way to court a worshipper,_  she replied.  _Insulting her entire species. Now, if you’re not going to reveal yourself, I have work to do._

The voice had retreated, and Hermione had spent a constructive, if lonely, afternoon working on her seventh-year coursework.

 

* * *

 

 **iii.**  
The first day Hermione spent on the job she was approached by a very odd man. 

She’d become one of Loki’s worshippers during her final term at Hogwarts, once Loki had decided he’d fooled around enough, played enough tricks, and proven to Hermione quite why she was an excellent fit for a god of lies, trickery, defeating one’s enemies with wisdom and not violence. She wears his pendant - a simple silver disk with the runes of his name - and she worshipped as he had asked, providing power and her wisdom and her slow-learned skill at manipulation to further her god’s goals. He had, thus far, never asked her for a sacrifice before he granted her a boon. Perhaps it helped that she rarely asked for boons; she much preferred to get the job done under her own power.

The man who approached the desk was not the oddest she’d met - she’d met blindfolded Seers and shapechanging hunters, potioneers still covered with their ingredients and their brews (though usually that was just Snape, realising too late he was missing a reference text and running through all the libraries he had access to to find it).

This man was, for the most part, relatively ordinary. He’d a greying mane of hair, and leaned on a tall, golden-bound staff. His one eye was bright. Plenty of gods demanded sacrifice of senses and body parts. Gods of prophecy and wisdom were known to ask for the sacrifice of an eye for some of the greater gifts they could bestow and Hermione had encountered many blind or half-blind librarians. 

But there was something…  _off_  about this man. 

“I’m after a book,” the man said. “Perhaps you might help me?  _Lies of the Deceiver; the Prophecy of Ragnarok?”_

The man watched her with his one bright eye as, slowly, she set down her quill and rose. “Norse section,” she said. “Intersection of gods and prophecies.” She pointed.

The man smiled slowly. “Might you lead me, my dear? I’m afraid my eyesight isn’t what it was.”

As Hermione stepped out from her desk and turned to lead the man down the corridors of books, her hand rose and grasped her pendant.

 

* * *

 

**iv.**  
_Odin._

The voice echoed in her mind that night. 

_I’m sorry, I should have kept you further from his Sight._

Hermione sat up and ignored the grumble-snarl of Crookshanks at her feet. In the dark she flicked her fingers, set a light going in the lamp beside her bed. Then, from a drawer, she drew out her knitting.

She knew this tone from her god. He was going to keep her up all night talking, and there’d be a potion for tiredness by her bedside in the morning.

 _I’ve read the myths, my lord._ she sent.  _After he sacrificed his eye there is very little he does not See or Know._ In the quiet she counted her stitches.  _My lord? Or is it my lady, today?_

 _Neither,_  Loki sent.  _Perhaps it is_ idiot.

Hermione counted her stitches, looped her yarn.  _Or, perhaps Loki, you picked a very intelligent mortal to be your dedicant, and she researched you and your entire pantheon thoroughly before agreeing._

_…I thought you agreed because I convinced you._

In the flickering light of the lamp, Hermione stifled a smile.  _Perhaps. But perhaps it wasn’t your words, but the records of your deeds that convinced me._

 

* * *

 

 **v.**  
When a mage walked up to her desk five minutes before her lunch break, Hermione resigned herself to not getting any lunch today. It was just sod’s law. Someone would turn up right before she could safely flee, with a question none of the junior librarians could handle and she’d be stuck for the entire hour helping some daft old mage find three or four obscure tomes from far corners of the library. 

Without looking up she set her quill in it’s inkpot, sprinkled sand on her parchment and said, “What is it that you’re after?”

“Well,” said a voice she recognised altogether too well. “I was going to ask if my favourite librarian wanted to go for lunch.”

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Mage's College, Dee's College and Magegate Cemetery are all made up completely. I hope you enjoyed this, please leave comments!


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